His Other Half
by Dark Akuma Hunter
Summary: It was never a good sign to fall in love with the voice in your head, but some things were simply unavoidable. Sam/Zeke.


**Note:** Hi. I started writing this little fic ages ago, way before the Gadreel Reveal, and found it on my usb yesterday and decided I might as well finish it. Because of the massive break between writing it may seem a little disjointed, and I can no longer remember Gadreel's mannerisms when he was masquerading as Ezekiel. Apologies.

* * *

**His Other Half**

Sam wasn't an idiot, and he really wished Dean would quit acting like nothing was up, because obviously something _was_, and his brother was a horrendous liar at any rate. If it wasn't the constant worrying and hovering, which was totally weird and so not Dean that even _Ash_ would have known something was up, then it was dead people somehow coming back to life without him noticing.

There was no brushing it off, regardless of the effort Dean was going to.

And then there were the dreams.

There was nothing strange about them, per say. At first it was mostly the fact that they _weren't nightmares._ Nightmares had become pretty standard fare whenever he slept deeply enough to dream at all, especially since his trip to the Cage and the subsequent mind-fuck which occurred in the following months. Having dreams that could be considered at all pleasant was a rarity, but ever since he left the hospital post-trials (which he still didn't remember actually doing, regardless of what Dean said) it was almost a nightly occurrence.

The dreams were very tame. In most of them it was merely a bright, warm light that seemed to envelope him. The strange part was that, inside the light that felt as though it were embracing him, he felt safe and protected. A ridiculous notion, considering what that sort of light tended to symbolise in their lives – vengeful angels.

Sam knew he'd never tell anyone about the dreams, not only because Dean would tease him (what sort of girl dreamt about _protective light?!_) but because, despite the content, they felt oddly personal.

He decided he was going stir-crazy, with Dean being so insistent he didn't leave the bunker too often.

* * *

The more often he passed out during important moments in hunts, the more suspicious he got, and the more he thought about it.

One moment stuck out clearly in his mind whenever he got caught up in theories. When Dean called him Zeke. That wasn't a mistake that just happened for no reason.

It didn't worry him as much as it probably should have.

By this point in time Sam was well used to different sorts of possession, and it wasn't so hard to identify it once he started looking. An angel. An angel called Zeke. He might have been annoyed, except Zeke had been saving the people he loved. If it weren't for him, Sam knew full well that Cas and Charlie would both be dead. So instead of anger, he was thankful.

Thankful for the other presence inside of him, a presence he now knew was the only thing between himself and severe injury.

* * *

Once he figured it out, the dreams changed.

Though the all-encompassing light was still there, it was dimmer, radiating a sense of hesitancy, as though it – or rather him, as Sam had begun associating the light with the angel – were afraid of Sam now that he knew.

As silly as it may have seemed, it was disheartening for Sam, who had come to cherish the warmth and care Zeke's grace provided him. The fear upset him, and so he tried to return the favour, calming the angel.

He had no physical form in the dreams – neither of them did – so Sam tried to push across his emotions; his thankfulness and awe. It was difficult, a strange concept to have to grasp, but he knew it had worked when the glow brightened once more, washing over him.

When he woke that morning he whispered, barely even audible to himself, his acceptance of Zeke's presence within him. His heart felt lighter at the admission, and the cheerful hum at the back of his mind made him feel at peace with his decision.

* * *

For some reason Sam chose not to tell Dean he knew. Following his lead, Zeke made no direct mention of it either. It would just raise too many questions if Dean knew, questions Sam wasn't sure he had the answer to.

They adjusted their relationship accordingly.

Sam let Zeke take control whenever it seemed necessary, and Zeke let him remain a conscious presence in the back of their shared mind when it happened. It was through this that Sam realised what a dick Dean could be to the angel – who, might he add, was only trying to help. Since he couldn't exactly tell Dean off for it, Sam would spend the nights ranting and raving about his brother's lack of respect and reassuring Zeke – needlessly – that his presence was appreciated.

He never said it explicitly – though it was rather hard to hide thoughts from someone who was in your head – but Sam welcomed Zeke's presence as much, if not more than, Dean seemed to need it.

* * *

"Are you worried that your voice might hurt me?" Sam asked curiously one night, staring up at the ceiling of his room in the dark. "Is that why you never speak to me, even when I'm sleeping?" The thought had been bugging him for a while now. The only time Zeke had ever spoken – actually spoken, rather than imparted thoughts through bursts of emotion – was when speaking through Sam to Dean. Was the angel adverse to the idea of speaking to him? Was that too personal?

The turbulent emotions that Sam had long since designated as belonging to Zeke shifted, guilt, worry and hesitance surfacing from the mess. Confused by it all Sam frowned, trying to sort through it. It was so much harder reading into the emotions when he had no facials to work with – not that it had ever stopped him before.

Sam rolled over onto his side, tugging the covers up over his shoulder. "You don't have to, you know. Talk to me that is. It's okay. It's just, it'd be nice to have an actual conversation for once, rather than feeling like I'm talking to myself." He immediately felt awful for it, as Zeke's guilt increased, threatening to drown him. Closing his eyes Sam silently apologised, trying to calm the confused angel.

_Silence is fine. Just don't leave me._

Sam didn't know where his plea came from, but he knew better than to deny it now that it had been said.

That night he felt like he was being suffocated from the strength of Zeke's attempt at reassurance, but he clung to it, desperate in the depths of his mind.

* * *

Sometimes he supposed it was a bad idea to be attached to a foreign presence within his own body. It wasn't the same as being friends with Cas, because Cas had a body of his own (what with Jimmy being long gone and all), not to mention the poor guy could barely be classified as an angel these days. This, at times, felt more like having MPD, but your different personalities were friends.

A confusing notion.

But confusing or not, Sam truly treasured Zeke. Having someone who could understand him without Sam having to struggle through a complicated explanation of his emotions and thought processes was exhilarating and rather a big relief when he was feeling stressed.

It was with regret and a fair amount of panic that he realised Zeke would one day leave him. He loved the angel's presence in his life, in all senses of the word, no matter how crazy or illogical or impossible it was.

Three days after his realisation, Zeke spoke to him for the first time.

* * *

"You are… confused."

The voice was loud and quiet, deep and slightly distorted, and with a start Sam realised that it must have been a toned down version of his _real_ voice. Zeke's grace belayed his tension, and if he could Sam would have rolled his eyes. Problem number one of having no physical body in his dreams.

"There are always things to be confused about," Sam shot back jokingly, pretending both that he didn't know what Zeke was talking about and that he wasn't shocked by the sudden change in his behaviour.

"That would appear to be true, yes. However… I believe that I am the cause of your confusion. It… pains me."

Sam paused, rolling the thoughts around in his mind. He'd known, of course, that it would be practically impossible to keep his conflicting thoughts away from Zeke's notice, but he'd hoped nonetheless. He'd hoped he could at least get it clear for himself, before unloading on the angel. Looks like it was time to face the music after all.

"I'm sorry if I've been worrying you Zeke, really, I am. This would be easier to explain if I could see you, you know? Have something to concentrate on?"

His request apparently perplexed the angel, but after a moment Sam found himself standing in a clearing, with a body and not just a consciousness, opposite another man.

"This was my previous vessel," he explained stiffly, standing straight and still, awkward. Happy to have his bodily functions back Sam rolled his eyes for real.

"I don't know if you've realised, but you sort of mean the world to me," Sam explained lightly, walking forwards, hands behind his back. "I've been confused because I probably shouldn't feel the way I feel about you considering right now you're essentially a part of me."

"I am not sure that I understand."

Smiling softly Sam shook his head, coming to a stop in front of Zeke's impressively tall previous vessel.

"I imagine, that other than being forced out of Heaven by Metatron, you probably haven't spent much time down here huh?"

Ezekiel didn't offer an answer, but Sam didn't need one.

"Us humans, we're funny things. We're picky, but we love a lot. Dean? He's my brother. And even though he's been lying to me all this time about you, I still love him. He's the only blood family I have left, and I will always love him. But you, you're my whole world. And it's strange, because for so much of my life Dean has been my world. But he's got so much crap of his own to worry about, and suddenly there you were."

Looking into Zeke's dimly glowing eyes Sam reached out and grabbed one of his hands, holding it gently between his own.

"If it were like this all the time, me in my body and you in there, it would be so much easier, this love. Because all I can think about is how messed up it is that I'm in love with the voice inside my head. It makes me feel narcissistic when I'm all alone out there in the waking world. When I'm awake I can't hold onto you like this," Sam caressed Zeke's hand, lightly running his fingertips over his palm.

"You… love me?"

Averting his eyes momentarily Sam sighed. It would have been much simpler, the explanations, had he fallen for Gabriel or Balthazar instead. They'd spent so much time amongst humanity that they'd actually probably be teasing him about all this right now instead of listening seriously.

"From spending so much time around Castiel I know that angels have a somewhat different outlook on love than we do. You're all about loving humanity as whole. But us humans? We love individual people. It'd be impossible for any of us to be selfless enough to truly love all of humanity. Do you know the difference between the types of love?"

Holding Zeke's hand in his right Sam shifted his left to rest on the angel's shoulder, taking one step closer so that they were right in each other's faces. He stared at Sam with wide eyes, confused and almost… anticipatory. Perhaps he wasn't completely oblivious after all.

"I'm going to kiss you now," Sam said simply, not feeling up to a complicated discussion about love.

He tilted Zeke's head back slightly and leaned forward, closing the gap between them. Lacing his fingers between the angel's he closed his eyes, pressing their lips together. Sam's lips tingled, and for the first time, in the back of his mind, he realised that yes, this was an embodiment of the angel's grace, and he probably shouldn't be touching it. But it didn't burn. Rather, it was electrifying.

A needy whine erupted from Sam's throat as Zeke started kissing back. Hesitant fingers touched the back of his head and Sam pulled back marginally, breathing deeply.

Zeke's pupils were blown and a faint blush dusted his cheeks. Resting his forehead against the angel's Sam chuckled breathlessly and wrapped his free arm around Zeke's waist, holding him close against him.

"I love you Ezekiel. Do you think you understand?"

"I… I know not the names of these emotions you feel. But this warmth, if that is what you call love, I feel it too."

Right, right, yes, Sam supposed he was projecting his emotions rather loudly in his mindscape now.

"Thank you," Sam murmured, before dipping down to kiss him again.

Yes, they still inhabited the same body, and Sam was aware of the risks associated with the angel leaving prematurely, but now that everything was out in the open? He could deal with all that. If they couldn't have the days, they'd have the nights, and that was all there was to it.


End file.
